Crown of One Hundred Kings (Nine Kingdoms Trilogy Book 1)

by Rachel Higginson

  I was the only female in a room full of males, and yet I seemed to be the only one willing to meet anyone’s gaze. All eight eyes jumped from object to object in a dull game of avoidance.

  “Please,” I beseeched. I looked to the crown prince. “Taelon?”

  Taelon finally looked at me, as if unable to resist the pull of his real name. His blue gaze had dimmed and his mouth pressed into a frown. “He’s untrustworthy. In the truest sense. Some say that he is responsible for the expansion of the Ring of Shadows. They say…”

  I seemed to have forgotten how to breathe as I forced a question from my lips. “They say what?”

  Taelon’s expression turned helpless. “They say he starves entire villages so the young men will be driven from them into the service of the Shadows. There are rumors that he is the reason the Ring of Shadows moved beyond Blackthorne to begin with, that he has given the Shadows permission to wreak havoc.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” I laughed, the brittle sound bouncing around the room. “Blackthorne has always been difficult. My uncle would not allow mercenaries freedom in his governable properties. The royal army—”

  “The royal army could crush the Ring beneath their boots in one day. But the royal army does nothing.”

  “So who fights them?” I demanded. “You cannot expect me to believe the Ring of Shadows is allowed to do as they please and the individual kingdoms do not intervene.”

  “Some have fought back,” Taelon answered. “Soravale for instance. My father has never tolerated lawlessness. But Tyrn has forbidden the army to get involved with the Shadows. He claims that the rumors are exaggerated and falsified and that if we send armies after common men, we will incite civil war. While Tyrn is in the Seat of Power, we remain helpless. If something is not done soon, the entire realm will burn.”

  “Are these rumors or are they facts?” I asked breathlessly. “If there is no substantial proof that my uncle is behind the Ring of Shadows, I don’t know how you can—”

  Hugo cleared his throat. “Your uncle is one of the vilest men I have ever met. He is too concerned with lining his pockets to notice the suffering of the people he’s sworn to protect. He might very well be the reason the Ring has infiltrated our lands. He does nothing to protect the border between your homeland and Blackthorne. Whether or not he has perpetuated the Shadows’ devastation of the realm or not, I cannot say. But he is responsible for refusing aid. He’s nothing like your father, I can tell you that much. Your father was a good man. Just. Fair. Firm. He would never have let this happen. He would never have let the realm become this version of Denamon.”

  Hot tears pressed against my eyes but I didn’t let them stop me from saying, “Thank you, Your Majesty. He was. He was a very good man.”

  Hugo nodded. “What we need now is a plan to deal with your uncle.”

  “Deal with him how?”

  Hugo stared at me. I felt all three other pairs of eyes turn to me as well. Hugo’s voice was that of a king when he said, “I’m wondering how you will unseat him, Tessana. For he will not go willingly.”

  I shook my head. “Of course he will. I have the crown.”

  “And he has eight years of claim to it.” Hugo argued. “He will not happily give the position over to you. He will not walk away without a struggle.”

  “He will,” I insisted. “Everyone recognizes how powerful that crown is. I have it. He will have no choice but to concede.”

  “Tessana,” Taelon insisted. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I’m quite serious.”

  He shook his head and took a step toward me. “You have no army. You have no power. You have nothing but a crown that can easily be stripped from you. Your only bargaining piece is a relic that could have been forged. Perhaps not easily. But there are those in the realm, people of power, people loyal to your uncle, that would testify to its falsehood.”

  “It’s not a replica,” I snapped. “It is the Crown of Nine.”

  “Yes, we know that,” Haemon agreed. “But it is anyone’s guess as to how your uncle will react when he finds out that you’re alive.”

  Taelon’s gaze burned into my face. “Alive and ready to be queen.”

  A chill slithered down my spine. I knew the journey would be difficult, possibly treacherous. I knew the royal guard would look on me with suspicion. I knew it would be a challenge attempting to see my uncle and making my case. I also knew that it would be nearly impossible to prove my identity outside of the crown in my possession. But I had never once accounted for my uncle’s desire to keep the throne.

  Hugo let out a grumbling sigh. “That’s the other problem.”

  “What other problem?”

  His steely gray eyes held mine. “You, my dear, are a woman.”

  White hot frustration steamed through me. “I am quite aware, Your Majesty. But what does my gender have to do with anything?”

  He pressed his hands down on the map, resting his weight on thick fingertips. His gaze swept over the miniature replica of the realm, taking in every tiny tree, every pile of painted sand. He lifted one hand to trail a finger over the raised cliffs of Soravale and the white-crested waves of the Crystal Sea.

  “The Crown of Nine is called the Crown of One Hundred Kings, is it not? Not One Hundred Kings and Queens. Not One Hundred Royal Houses or Bloodlines or Persons. Only a man, a king if you will, has ruled the Nine.”

  The breath sucked from my lungs as if a great vortex had opened up above me and pulled all of the air straight from the room. “Is there a law that says…” I shook my head, desperate to find my balance once more. The room spun. My vision danced with black dots. “That says a woman cannot hold the Seat of Power?”

  Hugo slowly lifted his gaze to mine. “A law? Written down and made permanent? No, there’s not. At least not to my knowledge.” He looked to his son and then back to me again. “But your legitimacy could and probably will be contested. Your uncle has the right to a hearing. Any king of the realm does when confronted or challenged. It is called Conandra. Tyrn will most likely call a council of the nine sovereigns to hear your case. They will weigh evidence of your birth, bloodline, and whether or not you will be fit to rule. At the end of the trial, you will either be called to the crown or condemnation.”

  “And Tyrn?”

  “The same for him. Although if he is found lacking as king, he will not be imprisoned.”

  My voice was barely a whisper when I spoke again. “You’re saying that if I should go on to Elysia and claim the throne as my own, my uncle will hold Conandra. And if the nine monarchs do not legitimize my rightful place as Queen of the Realm, I will be imprisoned?”

  Hugo held my gaze. “For the rest of your life.”

  I struggled to swallow.

  “But it is more difficult than that,” he continued. “You undervalue what it means to be queen instead of king. The Council of Sovereigns would be handing over the entire realm to a seventeen-year-old girl. Do you see how they might struggle to agree to your bloodline? Or your right to the crown? A woman under any circumstances would have a disadvantage. But you are a child. A child who has been hiding in a temple for the last eight years. Forgive me, Tessana, but you barely appear civilized after your years stashed away on the edge of humanity, let alone capable of reigning over an entire realm. Your chance at success is slim.”

  “What are my other options?”

  “You stay here. You are welcome to stay in Desmondin for as long as you’d like. You will always have refuge here.” He shook his head and leaned forward, “You will always have a home here.”

  My heart thudded once. Twice. “Are you suggesting I keep the crown hidden? That I don’t let my uncle know I am alive or that the kingdom he rules does not belong to him?”

  Hugo did not hesitate, “Yes.”

  “You can’t be—”

  “I’m quite serious, Tessana. Your father was my closest ally, my most beloved friend. How can I claim to revere his legacy when I send his only remai
ning child to the wolves?” When I did not appear convinced, he added. “Or you could stay for a few years. Take refuge with us while you add years to your life so that when you present yourself to your uncle and the sovereign council, you will be considered old enough, royal enough.”

  Fear beat in my blood, yet the rhythm of my heart steadied.

  I could not ignore the purpose that had been given to me the second I saw the crown again. I could not ignore the call to fate that had led me this far. I could not ignore that I had been born into a bloodline that belonged to the Seat of Power as much as the Crown of Nine belonged to it.

  I lifted my chin and met Hugo’s pleading gaze. “Can I count on your vote?”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

  “I am asking for your vote, My King. When the time comes in Conandra, will I be able to count on you?”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am.”

  His shoulders sagged and his expression was marked with concern. But I could also make out the twinkle of surprise in his eyes. “You have my vote, Tessana Allisand of Elysia. And you have my support. No matter what you decide.”

  I nearly collapsed. His words were powerful relief that I had not realized I needed until they were in the air.

  “Thank you,” I rasped.

  His expression hardened once again and he said, “Think about my offer, child. Think about a life here. It would not be a bad one. You could have everything you ever dreamed of. I’d even be so kind as to revisit the marriage contract I signed all those years ago.”

  “Father!” Taelon boomed.

  Hugo kept his gaze steady on me. “You could still be queen, Tessana. Maybe not of the realm, but of Soravale. And that is not a small offer. Think it over.”

  I dared not look to Taelon. “I will. Thank you, Your Highness.” I curtsied, too flustered to be embarrassed about my lack of grace. “Please, excuse me. I have much to think over.”

  The men bowed and I fled the room. I felt Haemon close on my heels, but I did not turn to speak to him, even when he had to point out the way.

  I didn’t stop moving until the door was safely locked behind me and the bed soft and stable beneath me.

  Then the true debate began. Me against myself.

  20

  Oliver and I had been invited to dine with the King and Queen and their family. It was a high honor, but I was a little suspicious that this was a subtle ploy to convince me to stay in Desmondin.

  Oliver had been giddy when he’d pounded on my door looking as polished as I’d ever seen him. I had already banished all help and servants and anyone that needed or wanted anything from me, except for Shiksa.

  “We’re invited to dinner!” he grinned. “With the King.” He leaned in and gave me a suave look. “And the Queen.”

  “Well, I assumed she’d be there as well. It’s rumored that she eats supper almost as often as her husband.”

  My sarcasm didn’t dampen his good mood. “And I bet,” he went on. “That it will be a good supper as well. Baked puddings. And meat pies. And soft Quirick eggs over plump potatoes.” He flopped into one of the sitting chairs and let his long arms droop lazily over the sides. “And think of the desserts, Tess. I wager not one of them will be burned.”

  His happiness was infectious and I smiled. “I should hope not. Lest someone lose their hand.”

  He bounced into sitting. “Is that true?” I thought he would be appalled, but a slow grin spread across his face. “If they risk losing a hand, then I would stake my own hand that nothing will indeed be burned.”

  “You concern me,” I told him. “I’m quite positive you’re mad.”

  His gaze narrowed with a new thought. “What of your quest for infamy and glory? How long will we reside as Soravalian royalty before we head off into the sunset?”

  “I’m not sure infamy and glory belong in the same sentence.” I frowned. I had not shared anything with Oliver about this morning’s meeting and I wasn’t quite sure where to begin. “We shall leave as soon as we are able to,” I answered. Although even I did not know what that meant yet.

  Oliver’s brows drew down low over his brown eyes. “Taelon and his father are supportive of your plans to be Queen of the Realm? Just like that?”

  “I do have the crown.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yes, sure, you have a crown. But what else, Tessana? No army to fight this battle should any of the kingdoms revolt against a sudden change in monarchy. You have no widespread support. Or even small-spread support. You have nothing but a crown and the claim that you are part of a bloodline that is all but extinct.”

  Doubts swirled in my gut. “I thought I at least had your support, Oliver the Silent.”

  He rolled his eyes again. “Of course, you do. Of course, you will always have my support. But who am I? I’m nothing but an anonymous commoner that cannot even testify to the validity of your claims. I expected more from your meeting with the king is all. I expected a plan and an answer to all of these unanswered what ifs.”

  “Hugo doesn’t want me to go back. It pains me to say this, but several of his opinions reflect yours. Apparently, there is a trial called Conandra. My uncle does not have to hand over the throne as soon as I arrive on his doorstep. He is allowed to call for Conandra and contest my claims. All of the remaining sovereigns would be summoned to hear my case.”

  He stared at me while he processed what I said. “And if you lose this trial? If they decide that you are not fit to be queen?”

  “Imprisonment,” I whispered. “They would imprison me as an imposter to the throne, as an anarchist and insurgent, for the rest of my life.”

  He slid to the edge of his seat and clasped his hands in front of him. “Tessana, you are seventeen-years-old. That would be a very long time to suffer.”

  So far my mind had been stuck on the disappointment of losing. I had yet to imagine what all of those remaining decades of my life would look like rotting in the pits of the palace dungeons.

  “Dragon’s blood,” I hissed.

  “We can return to Heprin,” he offered. “To the Temple. The Brotherhood would welcome you back with open arms and not one of them would give away your secrets.” When I chewed on my bottom lip without responding, he added, “Because of the vow. They cannot speak you see.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Yes, Oliver, I remember the vow. Since it has not yet been three months since we left.” I sighed again. “Hugo also offered me asylum. He said I was welcome to stay here for as long as I liked. He even offered to reinstate my arranged marriage.”

  “Your arranged marriage?”

  Drat. I had forgotten Oliver knew nothing of that. “To Taelon,” I confessed. “We were betrothed when we were children.”

  “Betrothed. To each other?” He laughed heartily at that. “But he is the crown prince of Soravale.”

  “Correct.”

  “So, if you were to be queen it would be of his kingdom and not your own.”

  “Correct.”

  “And you would be safe. You would never go to Elysia, but you would be allowed to live as a royal.”

  “Yes, correct. If I ever stepped foot in Elysia it would be as a guest, not as a ruler.”

  He nodded. “This is the better option.”

  “Correct,” I whispered.

  “But you’re not going to take it.” He didn’t ask. I was happy he knew me as well as he did.

  “I’ve never wanted to be a royal simply to be royal,” I explained. “This has never been about living comfortably.”

  “Fair enough,” he sighed. “But I hope you realize what you’re getting yourself into, Tessana.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning the realm is a mess. You don’t know how the rulers of the kingdoms will feel about you wearing the Crown of Nine. You could start a war. Or several wars. You could be thrown in prison yes, or beheaded or hung or burned at the stake. Exposing your bloodline and your crown is dangerous.”


  “I knew that from the second we started out and so did you.”

  “But have you truly thought this through? Have you weighed all of the consequences?”

  I couldn’t hold his probing gaze, so I stared at the carpet instead. “I’m trying.”

  “Well that’s a start.” He jumped to his feet and moved toward the fire. “And what is it that you’re trying to accomplish anyway? I know you want peace for the realm, but what if you bring about the opposite? What if fighting for this crown means death and destruction and more burning villages?”

  “No,” I argued. “I will not believe that. It is my bloodline that has been called to the throne. To the crown. To this realm. I cannot explain to you the pull I feel to go home, to fulfill this call of fate. If I cower away for the sake of my own safety that’s when there will be continued death and destruction and burning villages. I know that. I can feel it in my bones.”

  Neither of us spoke for a long time. Not until Oliver’s stomach growled louder than the fire behind him.

  “Oh, Oliver the Silent,” I laughed. “Let’s go see if you’re going to lose a hand tonight.”

  He frowned at me.

  “Your bet,” I reminded him. “I take oaths very seriously. If even the meringue is browned unreasonably, I’m going to need you to pay in full.”

  “It won’t be,” he said confidently. “Father Diedrick is not in charge.”

  Haemon was waiting outside my bedroom door when we stepped into the corridor. He escorted us to the dining room where a table the length of the Temple barn had been set to accommodate us. Everyone rose when the herald announced our presence.

  I had never met the princess as she was only six and I had not seen the princes since they were young boys. I couldn’t have identified them by name had I been asked to. They were nearly as tall as Taelon, though still with the gangly limbs of youth. They had all the makings to be as handsome as Taelon and as regal as their father.